Liquid Red
by TehPandaPatrol
Summary: Viselle is an innocent little girl growing up with her horrible older brothers. The Cold-Blooded Alchemist is a young woman with a horrifying tecnique of alchemy thrusted into the homunculi's plot. How are these two connected and what is to come of them?


**Author's Notes: So this is my original fic centering around my OC, something which grew to 45 pages (in my microscopic writing) and needed some serious editting. I'm still typing this up, working on some finishing touches, and experimenting with this character in other fics, but this is the most in deapth and important one. To _get_ my other stuff, you have to read this first ^^**

**Just to clarify things, the 'Cold-Blooded Alchemist" parts happen before the manga starts -- a few months before the Lior events the manga opens up to. The 'Little Viselle' parts are before the manga as well, but there's more time skips through them. Just hoping to clarify time stuff. : )**

**This combines with ~Uncertainty and a Parasol's OC, Lira, but she'll be coming in later or in some other stuff. She's probably going to put up some stuff that has my OC in it....hopefully..... *creepy Russia glare towards Klairz***

**Enjoy!  
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**Liquid Red  
Part 1**

She was tense, careful, and attentive. Sleepless nights provided her with a bit of grogginess floating around her head, but it was easy enough to shake off. She had handled worse before that a little sleep loss. She could not afford to nod off once during her current position, not when at any moment she could be attacked, knocked out, arrested, or -- her worst fear yet -- be brought before the Fuhrer himself. Face to face with a homunculus.

It had been three days (and four hours, ten minutes; she'd been counting anxiously) since her accidental eavesdropping on the Fuhrer's private meeting with the top officers of the military. It hadn't been on purpose, just a little slip and thin walls, but she had learned everything.

Her first surprise was King Bradley's identity. Homunculi...they puzzled her. Though she was an alchemist --and a State Approved one at that, titled the Cold-Blooded Alchemist -- artificial humans, the legendary Philosopher's Stone, immortality and forbidden alchemy had never crossed her mind. They did not intrigue her. They were fairy tales; fairy tales were stupid and foolish, for immature little girls. The Cold-Blooded Alchemist had learned to trust only what she came across physically and scientifically.

There was something that she had discovered during her eavesdropping though that was not physically there, but she wanted desperately. It had flowed from her new knowledge, seeping from underneath the city. It was something humans fought over relentlessly.

It was called "power".

--

"Viselle! Viselle, where are you?" The trill of a mother's worried call echoed through the house. The scrabbling of feet on the wooden floorboards was also heard, and slight panting. The little girl thought the hiding should stop.

"Here I am, Mama!" She squealed happily, popping out of a laundry basket laid haphazardly on the floor. Viselle's cheerful grin was excited and playful, but her mother was scared and worried.

"Oh, Viselle, don't scare me like that!" She cried, embracing her daughter and picking her up. "You scared me, I thought I lost you!"

Viselle's smile disappeared as she saw her mother's frightened state. Her wide, creamy brown eyes filled with tears, and she started to sniffle. "I'm sorry, Mama! I didn't want to scare you!" She buried her face and pigtails in her mother's shoulder, smelling the sweet scent of washing soap and the sour stench of bleach (Her mother ran a small washing business in the house).

"Oh, calm down little one..." Her mother comforted. "It's not something to cry over..."

"I hurt your feelings, Mama," The little girl sniffled, trying to contain her tears. "That's really, really mean -- I'm really, really sorry!" A few loose tears spilled over her cheek.

"Shh..." Viselle was set down, and her mother bent down to look her face to face with a happy smile. "You're my one little girl -- you're extra special to me!" Her hands flew out and tickled Viselle, who began to giggle, overwhelming the tears.

She was fine -- for now.

--

"The Fuhrer has requested your presence."

The Cold-Blooded Alchemist had been expecting the command for days, but it didn't relieve any stress to hear it said aloud. It was obvious the Fuhrer knew of her eavesdropping. How could he _not_? She bit her lip in determination, trying to contain her terror. What would he do to her? Death was not the worst option on the list, but torture was certainly something she would have preferred to avoid. She imagined flames licking at her skin, burning and roasting her flesh with endless pain. Or water -- endless ocean surrounding her. Dark, bottomless ocean with no oxygen, tormenting her lungs until they burst. Neither involved blood. Torturing her with blood would only be providing her with a weapon, her strength. She was almost completely sure that he would condemn her to something as horrible as helplessness.

But despite the worries she lay in front of herself, the Cold-Blooded Alchemist realized something.

She had been eagerly awaiting this meeting with the Fuhrer.

--

"Mama! Mama!"

This time, a fretful little girl's voice rang throughout the house, sobs and panic included in the yelps. Her nose, bloody and sore, was held in between her hands tightly. Viselle ran to try to find her mother, despite the pain in her nose and the steady drip of blood. Blood. She didn't like blood. It would ooze out from a cut or a wound and onto her dress, or socks, or coat. Even Mama's washing couldn't take out blood.

"Viselle! Viselle, com'ere, sweetie!"

Papa.

She rushed to his arms, still holding her nose. It hurt and bled like crazy, but Papa being there made it feel better.

"Your nose!"

"It hurts, Papa!" She bawled. "And -- and -- the blood's ruining my new dress!"

"Let's have a look," he said calmly, bending down to her height. "That means you have to take away your hands, okay?"

"Okay," She sniffled, removing her bloody fingers from her nose. "It feels...broken." She tried to be brave and grown-up, explaining how it felt.

Her papa gently stoked it, wiping away the blood. "You didn't get any on blood on your dress." He told her with a smile.

Good ol' Papa. He always knew how to make her feel better. She smiled, then regretted it. Her nose flared with pain.

"You're a tough one, kido," He said, taking a handkerchief and gently wrapping it around her nose to sop up the fresh blood. "I think you're right. It's broken."

"She's not tough!"

A boy burst out from behind Papa, glaring. The little girl broke into tears.

"She's a wimp, and all she cares about is dresses and her dolls and -- "

"That's quite enough, Ullum," Papa glared. Beneath her crying eyes, Viselle felt fear rise up. Ullum was seven, three years older than her, and he had broken her arm not long ago. This time, he'd broken her nose.

"He's so mean..." Viselle told her papa. "He punched me in the nose!"

"Ullum, why do you pick on your sister like this? How would you feel if someone treated you like you treat her!" Papa was stern and his glare was angry.

"I'm just trying to toughen her up! Someday she'll thank me! I was the one who --"

"Broke her arm? Twisted her ankle? Broke her nose? Young man, you're going to have to face some punishment." His tone was frustrated and even a little angry. "You've got better things to do than pick on Viselle."

--

The only sound was feet on the polished tile floor. Two sets, to be specific; both quiet and barely noticeable; light, graceful and quiet steps; almost silent, a rhythmic tapping bouncing unnoticed past eardrums.

The sound of his feet hitting the floor was the first thing that had brought the idea to her head. She was confident that the man escorting her was not just an average soldier. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something different about him. Definitely something different.

"You're an alchemist, hmm?"

She glanced at his expression. It was still, like the unbroken surface of a murky pond. She had detected a slight mocking tone in his voice, but she questioned if she had heard him right.

"And I should answer that question because...?" She replied coolly.

His eyes narrowed, and he turned to glare into her deep, dark murky eyes. Strangely enough, a grin, taunting and decisive, illuminated his face. "Listen, you little bitch. I don't think it's your place to be asking _me_ any questions. Besides, I only wanted a simple answer. I wasn't _prying_ or anything of the sort."

She stared back, unsurprised, unmoving, meeting his acid glare.

--

Spring brought rain, and house trapped days. Viselle didn't mind at first -- she had just begun school, and education was a wonderful new captivation for her. Though she was barely in first grade, she dove into books headfirst and read them eagerly and easily. You didn't need the outdoors for that.

But her seven brothers, many now in their teens, were anxious and bored. They, unlike Viselle, had no interest in school or reading or anything of the sort. The twins, now sixteen, were off, visiting friends, looking for jobs -- planning their futures. Sixteen was quite young, especially for the irresponsible twins, but there was no longer anything for them at home.

The younger boys were always outside. The rain, though cold and dreary, did not threaten them, but their mother's orders to stay indoors were followed after Kenneth, eleven, snuck out and caught a horrible case of pneumonia.

But they were boys after all, and rules were there to be broken.

Viselle was content reading -- she'd gotten a special book from Papa about a Xing princess, and it was very good -- but she could not ignore Eston and Ullum when they wandered into her room. They were the worst of her brothers; nastiness had been passed down through the brothers, and it had all heaped upon the two youngest boys' backs. They carried curses and swears from the twins, slang and 'unnecessary knowledge' from the teenage brothers, and different methods of bullying from the last few. Eston, eight, and Ullum, ten, had both scarred Viselle badly. She just tried to ignore them.

"Viselle," Eston whined. "You never play with us. You're so mean."

"Viselle," Ullum moaned. "I'm sooo bored. Can you pleeeeeeeease play something with me?"

"What do you two really want?" Fright flickered through her eyes, and she hugged her knees to her chest, trying to still read her book at the same time.

"We want you to go down to the stream with us." Eston told her, smiling innocently.

"And then go in the woods! It'll be really, really fun, I promise!" Ullum continued.

"I'm reading..." She told them shyly, not wanting to argue or cause herself more trouble. "Why don't you get Kenneth? Or Mullan? Maybe Trent..." She didn't dare suggest they not break the rules at all.

"Mullan and Trent are too busy trying to impress the twins, 'cuz they're actually home for once." Eston explained. "And Kenneth's still really sick -- Mom hasn't left his room since yesterday, and she called the doctor this morning."

"Oh, come on, Eston. She's too scared to come with us." Ullum sneered. "She cries and runs and hides with her book and that's it. Viselle's useless. Just some dumb stuffed toy."

Tears welled in her eyes. "No, I just don't want to get sick, that's all!" She protested.

"It's seventy degrees outside, the warmest day we've had so far. And we're gonna be in the woods, not the river, which was what that dumbass Kenneth did." Eston said with a smug glare. "Besides -- " He tugged the book free from her grasp. "I'd be terrible if something happened to this."

Tears piled up higher in her eyes, and she reached desperately for the book. "Fine! I'll go with you!"

--

"I'm a state alchemist," She told him, staring hard and long into his eyes. "I answered your question -- let's get going. I've been summoned by the Fuhrer, have I not?"

The soldier glanced away for a moment, then turned around so he was no longer facing her. He continued down the hallway and she followed.

"You'll still answer any other questions I have, of course," He told her, with a bragging tone in his voice. "I'm not someone you want to mess with, you little smart ass."

She frowned, and glanced to either sides of the hallway for anything suspicious. "I'm not _stupid_. You want information out of me."

He stopped again, and turned to face her again. "I like you," He chuckled to himself, slowly inching closer to her. She swore she saw a flash of maroon in his brown eyes but the lighting wasn't too good, and she told herself she just imagined it. "Even if you _are_ a bitch." His hands grew dangerously close to her legs and waist.

"And what the hell's that supposed to mean?" She asked rhetorically, looking unimpressed and trying to back away from him as his hands brushed up against her military uniform.

"You analyze quickly and well -- you assume everyone's your enemy, and prepare to take anything they say as lies. Trusting no one is a wise move." He glanced at her arms. "But really -- loosen up, would you? I don't want you punching me any second now, if you please."

She glanced at her limbs, tense and rigid, prepared for violence underneath her military uniform. How had he -- ? Surprise unwillingly rose in her eyes.

"You're not perfect, bitch. You're good, but not _that _good. Don't try beating me at my own game."

--

The rain splattered on Viselle's head as she dashed behind her brothers. Her yellow boots and rain coat clashed with her bright pink dress, and that was her main concern at the moment. Not even the the rain bothered her terribly...those stupid boots and coat were her main distress. _And_ her book -- definitely her book.

The backyard was littered with washing tools for their mother's business and woodworking tools for their father's profession. The children hopped through the backyard to the stream.

They stopped in surprise. The stream was a muddy brown, and it roared up the bank. The stepping stones were coated in water, instead of the huge looming rocks they usually were. The rope swing, barely hanging above the water, was wet and slick, but the boys took the chance.

"Here, we'll just swing across," Ullum said, grabbing the rope from the edge of the water, where the beach had used to be. "We'll probably get soaked, but whatever." He looked straight at Viselle. "Right?"

She gulped. "My coat and my boots don't match my dress and bow." She whimpered.

"Oh, boo hoo. Let's get going before Mom realizes we're gone." Eston grabbed the swing and leaped for the other bank.

Even though he picked up his feet, his but grazed the water. He landed, safely but soaked.

"My turn," Ullum jumped as soon as he got a hold of the rope. He tried to pull up his feet better than Eston had, but most of him got wet. He too made it safely to the bank.

"Next -- Viselle!"

Her stomach churned as she was tossed the rope. She would have to hold it tightly...It was cold and wet and grimy. She didn't want to get drenched, either.

"I'm going to try the stepping stones!" She called out to the opposite bank.

Carefully, holding the rope for support, the small girl placed a foot on the first rock. The water was fast and unforgiving, and the rock was slippery. A small skid and push made little Viselle lose her breath for a moment in surprise, but she focused and got a hold of her footing. She placed her second foot on the rock.

Another rush of water surprised Viselle, and her feet got carried away by the current. She gripped the rope tighter, but her hand slipped, and she landed on the rock face down. She heard a loud _crack_ echo in her ears, and a muffled _snap_ after. Fiery pain clashed with the icy cold water, and as the current tugged away at her tiny, fragile body, her vision went muddy brown.

--

"Ah, the Cold-Blooded Alchemist. I've been expecting you." King Bradley welcomed her.

She met his gaze boldly. A certain smug air surrounded her, with the tint of fear mixed underneath. If she went down right then, she would go down with a brash attitude.

"Your excellency, sir." She pursed her lips defiantly as she saluted.

"Envy, come in and lock the door. We need to speak privately with this young woman."

The soldier from before entered and followed the orders given to him dutifully, but he had a grimace on his face. "Yes sir, no sir, why not sir." He mocked. "Why don't I just wait on you hand and foot while I'm at it?"

"I don't need your sarcasm. Besides, I only request small things from you."

Envy stared unimpressed at the Fuhrer, his nose scrunched up and mouth in a scowl. "Small things..." He muttered under his breath, preparing to say something more before being cut off.

"With all due respect, sir, I didn't come here to waste my time watching you and your homunculus friend bicker back and forth." Her words were spat out before she could control herself. Homunculus. That's what had been different about him.

Maroon eyes flickered to her, impressed and raking her head to toe. "So what tipped you off?"

She spun her head to look straight into his eyes. "I sensed there was something about you that was different. And with a name like _Envy_, well -- " She closed her eyes, smiling to herself as she turned away from the homunculus. " -- it just clicked into place."

He approached her from behind, laughing dryly in his throat. "You're not stupid. I'll give you that."

--

Viselle woke to an ache all over. It wasn't erupting, unbearable pain -- it was just achy. She had a slightly scratchy throat, but after coughing, it felt better. Everything else was _miserable_.

She turned her head, grimacing. She was lying on her bed, and her precious book lay on her bed stand. Smiling, she reached over to grab the book, ignoring the pain that came with moving, and opened to the page in which she had left off. The Xing princess was such a beautiful, lucky little girl. Viselle wished she could have been born a princess, grown up like the character in the story...

Her door opened, and Papa walked in, followed by Mama, and the doctor.

"Viselle!" Papa exclaimed with a half-hearted smile.

She smiled and put down her book. She saw the worry in their eyes, and her smile disappeared. Her memory flooded back -- the river, the rocks, her brothers...

She started to cry.

Mama rushed to Viselle's side. "Sweetie, what's wrong?" She asked, crouching down next to the sobbing little girl. "Does it hurt?"

Viselle shook her head, tears still dripping from her cheeks. "No."

"Then why are you crying?"

"Be-Because I didn't follow the rules. I went outside."

"Oh, sweetie, I was disappointed in you for going out by the river, but all that matters now is that you're alive."

"Mama, I just want to read my book."

"I thought so. You seem to like that book a lot. Now, let's let Dr. Winstin have a look at you. You're hurt pretty badly."

"I-I crashed into the rocks!" Viselle began to cry again.

"Shh...shh.." Mama stroked her hair back.

"Now, Miss Viselle, I'm afraid you've cracked a few ribs." The doctor told her with a sad smile. "You certainly are a brave young lady, dealing with an injury like this so well!"

She nodded, and tried to smile back. Dr. Winstin was a friendly, nice doctor.

It was not the first time she'd seen him.

It would not be the last.

--

"If you know," Envy stated, walking around to be in front of the young alchemist he was talking to. "I'd prefer to get rid of this dreary body."

A flash of light and a humming noise came from him, and she watched as his skin tore apart, piece by piece, to create a new version of him -- pale, a few inches taller than herself, with long green hair that reached his waist. "Nice mini skirt," She commented dryly, poking fun at his odd clothing. "But I have to say I like the halter top better."

An amused smile flickered across the Fuhrer's face. "Never afraid to open your mouth, even if you're called personally to see the Fuhrer himself and you come across two homunculi."

"I suppose I consider everyone to be my prey," She said thoughtfully, furrowing her brow. "And I toy with my prey."

"Then that's something you and Envy share in common." King Bradley chuckled, and Envy glared at him. "And I have to admit, I very much like you. You're intelligent, decisive, merciless and your alchemy knowledge is very unique. But --" His uncovered eye narrowed, and he scowled. " -- you know too much. We have no choice but to kill you."


End file.
